by Jan Coffey
The agents were cooling their heels in the room two floors below them while Steven and Kei discussed this development in their suite. Steven had told the two operatives that he wanted to talk to his wife before hearing any of their suggestions. He also wanted to call the one friend back in the U.S. who might be able to get him some answers. Because of the time difference, Steven figured his only chance to get the senator was to call him at home.
Paul wasn’t home, but his daughter Amber was trying to find her father and get Steven a forwarding number. Amber was the same age as Nathan and the only child, with a bit of a history of wildness. She’d been very close to Nathan when the two of them were growing up. College and friends had separated their paths. But anytime they got together or whenever Steven and Kei saw Amber, it was like seeing their own child.
“Can they send a message to Nathan and have him call us?”
“No, they say he is under cover, and it would be dangerous for anyone to contact him.”
Kei seemed to have much more energy again. She was pacing the room, the entire time holding Nathan’s sweater. “Did you know about this?”
“Of course not, love.”
“Did you know he was looking for a job with them?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Like you, I believed him when he said he wanted to take some time off and travel. I mean why…why the CIA? Why do something so dangerous?”
“He must get that from your side of the family,” she told him. “I’m nothing more than a couch potato.”
“Come over here, potato.” He held out his hand. Kei sat next to him. She shivered.
“Cold?”
“I keep having chills run through me. I can’t believe this. He’s fine. I have to make myself believe it. Nathan is fine.”
“Believe it,” Steven told her.
“Why didn’t he tell us?” she asked.
“He can’t. He isn’t supposed to. If I hadn’t threatened to put Nathan’s picture in every newspaper in Istanbul, we probably still wouldn’t know.”
She rubbed her cheek against the sweater. “When is his assignment finished?” Kei asked.
“They couldn’t give me an answer. We can ask them again.”
“Please ask them,” she encouraged. “By the way, I’ll kill him when we see him.”
“You may. You’re his mother,” Galvin said. He knew how she felt. Steven himself had already learned a lesson from all this. He needed to do a better job of communicating with their son when he returned. Just because Nathan was twenty-three and on his own, that didn’t mean there weren’t ties that still connected them.
Amber came back on the phone. “I just spoke to my Dad on his cell phone. He’ll call you back in a few minutes. He said he has to get to a secure telephone.”
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he told her.
“By the way, how’s Nathan doing?” she asked. “Are you having a good visit?”
When Amber had picked up the phone, Steven had fabricated a lie regarding why he and Kei had been in Istanbul. It was obvious that Paul hadn’t mentioned a thing to his daughter about their earlier telephone conversation. They all knew what good friends Amber and Nathan were. There was no reason to worry the young woman.
“He’s fine…doing great.” Steven hoped it wasn’t a lie.
“Tell him he was supposed to call me,” she said in a mock-complaining tone. “I’m still hoping to make a trip over while he’s there.”
“I’ll tell him,” Steven promised.
“Say hi to Kei. I miss her.”
Steven thanked the young woman and hung up. He relayed the gist of the conversation with Amber to his wife.
“You think Paul can help us?” Kei asked.
“As co-chair of the Senate Intelligence committee, he has his connections. I’m sure he can at least verify that these two men are who they say they are. Also, he might be able to confirm if Nathan is really employed by the CIA.”
Kei hugged the sweater tight to her chest. “I want to be on the phone, too, when he calls back.”
“Absolutely, why not.” The two families had known each other for nearly twenty years. Paul and his wife had divorced seven or eight years ago, but everyone stayed in contact.
They didn’t have to wait long. The senator called them back in under five minutes. Kei picked up the second phone in the room. “Hello, Paul,” she said.
“Hello, Kei. I’m glad I have both of you on the line with me.”
Steven took a couple of minutes and told his friend about the CIA operatives from Ankara and what they’d told him.
“I know all of this already,” Paul told them. “After your phone call yesterday, I did some digging here. My committee works hand-in-hand with the directors over in Langley. It was not difficult to find out what’s going on with Nathan.”
Galvin felt relieved. It was so much easier to imagine Nathan in this job, now that he knew his friend was involved.
“Paul, why would he do this?” Kei asked. “Why would he get involved in something so dangerous?”
“I don’t know, Kei,” the senator replied. “Duty, perhaps. Or adventure, I suppose. Those are questions that you can ask him when you see him. I did find out that he applied before he even finished college. After the standard training program, they had him taking a number of specialized classes. He’s a career operative now.”
“Where is he, Paul?” Steven asked. “What is he doing?”
“I can only tell you that he’s in Turkey and that he’s on assignment. That’s all my questions would get me. But I was assured that he’s fine. I was also told that it’s not a good idea for you and Kei to be over there, right now. I don’t think there is any way you’d want to jeopardize his cover any more than you have already. It could put him in danger, you know.”
Steven looked across the room at his wife, wondering if she was satisfied with what she was hearing.
“If he was going to be gone for a while, why didn’t he take his personal belongings?” Kei asked.
“Because we’ve given him everything he needs,” Paul told them. “We don’t want any proof out there that he’s someone other than who he says he is.”
Steven took a list out of his pocket that he’d made when they were in Nathan’s bedroom.
“And who exactly does he say he is?” Kei asked.
“I can’t answer that. Tell the truth, I don’t know. But you have to understand that these operations require…well, discretion.”
“Nathan does have a couple of personal items with him,” Steven told the senator on the phone. “When we checked out what was left in his room, I found his watch and cell phone missing.”
There was a pause on the line. “The watch shouldn’t be a big deal,” Paul commented. “I don’t like the idea of him taking his cell phone.”
“He used it to call us every few days or so,” Kei admitted. “It was when we couldn’t contact him on that phone that we became concerned.”
“I was told that he had been instructed not to have any personal belongings in his possession,” Paul told them. “It could be that he lost the phone, or ditched it. Really, there’s nothing to be concerned about regarding those two things. Listen to me, you two, as a friend speaking. My suggestion is for you both to go back to Connecticut and wait where he knows how to get in touch with you.”
Steven and Kei’s gaze met across the room. He gave a small nod to his wife. She frowned but didn’t fight him.
“It’s very possible that Nathan might be able to break away and try to call you… just to let you know he’s okay.”
Steven didn’t want to remind his friend that Nathan would know to call them on their cell phones if they weren’t home. The phone call aside, though, he did think that it would be better for his wife to be back home.
“I want to hear his voice,” Kei whispered.
“Don’t worry, Kei. You will,” Paul assured her. “And in the meantime, I’ll keep an eye on his situation over there. You two just get back ho
me.”
CHAPTER 28
STIGMA
Jay Alexei pressed his fingers to the cold glass. He wanted to reach inside, pick up his son. The baby was crying.
Couldn’t the two nurses working inside the fish bowl see he was upset? From ten feet away, he could see the baby’s tonsils. He was getting purple in the face. The blue cap on his head looked ridiculous. He wanted to hold him again, run his fingers through the fuzz of dark hair, touch his little nose.
Jay tapped on the window. Neither nurse paid any attention to him. He tapped again, harder. One of them turned and glanced at him. He motioned to his baby. The nurse smiled at him and went back to talking.
“Looks like he’s got a good set of lungs on him,” some guy beside him said. “The next Pavarotti, maybe?”
Jay didn’t have to look to recognize the man. The accent gave it away. It was Hank Diarte. Surprise, and then a wild sense of relief rushed through him. He tried to keep it cool. Not ask him what he was doing here.
“He’s trying out his vocal range, but the nurses seem to have already gotten used to him. They don’t even hear him.”
“How much did he weigh?” Diarte asked.
“Six pounds, four ounces. Twenty inches long. I think he’s twenty one inches long, but the nurse in the delivery room couldn’t hold his feet long enough to get an accurate measure.” Jay knew he sounded like a proud father. He loved the feeling.
“And how’s your wife doing?” Diarte asked.
“She’s amazing,” Jay said, smiling. He’d found himself smiling a lot over the past twelve hours. What he’d witnessed in that delivery room, what Padma had gone through, was truly a miracle. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. It had been a natural birth. Four hours total. The nurses kept saying that was really good for a first time delivery. Jay didn’t think he would have survived it if it had been any longer. “She’s exhausted, but amazing.”
“It is an amazing thing. No doubt about it.”
He nodded. “So how are you doing, Mr. Diarte? I didn’t expect to see you here.” Jay couldn’t wait any longer. He had to ask.
“Well, we like to keep track of our prospects,” he said. “Have you chosen a name for him yet?”
Jay shook his head. “We haven’t even talked about it. The baby was early. They’re sending us home this afternoon, though. So I guess we’ll have to come up with a name this morning.”
Jay remembered that they still didn’t have a crib. The only baby clothes they’d bought were a couple of one-piece sets they’d found on clearance racks a couple of months ago. Padma had bought a few packages of diapers at the store where she worked. There was so much that they were missing. One hand sank into his pocket. He had forty-six dollars in cash left until his next payday, which was three days away. He had to get a taxi to take them back home. He remembered that the nurse had mentioned something about baby car seats. They had to have one. But he didn’t even have a car.
He turned to Diarte. “Are you still doing the interviews?”
“No, we’re finished.”
“And?” Jay was too afraid to hope.
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Yes…you’re here,” Jay repeated, feeling almost giddy.
He watched Diarte bend down and reach into a briefcase on the floor between them. When the headhunter straightened up, he had a large manila envelope in his hand. He handed it to Jay.
“All the details regarding how to get there and when, your tickets, and the contacts that you’ll need to have are in here. Oh, yes…” He reached into the briefcase again and took out a much smaller envelope. “This is a congratulations gift from your new employer to you and your wife and…the baby to be named later.”
Jay opened the second envelope. Inside, there was a congratulations card and an American Express Gift Card for a thousand dollars. “I…I…this is…this is very generous.”
Diarte handed him a business card. “Call this car service when you and your wife are ready to go home. The service has been paid for. The driver will come and pick you up.”
This was already much more than he’d expected. Jay was feeling a little lightheaded.
“Please…please thank Mr. Lyons for me,” he said, overwhelmed. No one had ever treated Jay with this kind of generosity. “Please tell him that he won’t regret his decision. I’ll give him everything I have.”
Diarte leaned down and closed the top of the briefcase and picked it up.
“There’s one more thing that your new employer wanted me to suggest…but this is only a suggestion, and you don’t have to feel obligated to accept it.”
Jay didn’t think any suggestion or offer could top what he’d already been given.
“He wants you to know that you’re more than welcome to bring Mrs. Alexei and your son with you to the islands for the period of time that you need to be there. It might be a very good thing for all of you. But again, that’s only a suggestion.”
Jay smiled and looked at the baby, now sound asleep in the nursery. Mr. Lyons wouldn’t have to ask him twice.
CHAPTER 29
FEAR
Istanbul, Turkey
Nathan had lost count of the days.
There were no windows, no clocks. The single light bulb dangling from the ceiling was on all the time. Nathan had no clue at any time if it was day or night.
He didn’t know what his captors wanted…or more importantly, what they were waiting for.
Perhaps two or three days after talking to the man in the black shirt, he’d been awakened, handcuffed, gagged, blindfolded, and half-dragged outside. He was quickly shoved into the back of a truck or a van. He knew it must have been nighttime when he was moved; there was no sense of light through the blindfold when he stumbled from the building to the vehicle. And during the ride to the new location, there also seemed to be very little traffic.
Where they took him, Nathan had no idea. He didn’t know if he still was in Istanbul or if he’d been taken out of the city. His new prison seemed like an actual jail cell, of sorts, though it had the feel of something held over from the Middle Ages. There was no light bulb dangling from the ceiling in this tiny room; the only light filtered in from around the single metal door. In the corner of the room, there was a hole about three feet deep that had already seen service as a latrine. A rusted iron pipe stuck out of one stone wall, and someone had placed a rusted metal bucket beneath. A constant drip from the pipe was Nathan’s only source of water. At some point, happily, they’d decided against starving him to death. A dish of unrecognizable food was brought in once a day.
Nathan always knew when one of them was coming into the cell. The locks on the metal door had to be rusty. There was always a lot of noise before anyone came in.
Three different men seemed to have been tasked with guarding him. One was the person who’d set up the trap at Kapali Carsi. Nathan had no difficulty remembering his scarred face. The men rotated the duty, so that two were always there when it came time to give him dinner. It bothered him that none of them tried to hide their faces, though it was almost impossible to see them anyway. They all spoke some English, though one spoke better than the other two. When they delivered the food, one of them always came in holding a flashlight and a metal dish, while the other waited in the hallway, right outside the door. The one in the hall always carried an AK-47.
With the exception of the living conditions and the fact that they kept him half-starved, Nathan hadn’t been badly treated. There’d been no beatings since he’d been moved. They said a few words to him here and there, but the questioning had stopped. A couple of times, in the early days, Nathan considered fighting his way out of here. But there was no opportunity. The armed man in the hallway was a definite deterrent.
Still, try as he might, Nathan couldn’t come up with any reasonable explanation why these people had taken him or what they wanted. He kept wondering if they’d made a mistake of some sort. It just didn’t make sense.
Lying in the near
darkness, Nathan thought about his parents a lot. He remembered the opportunities he’d had—the paths he could have taken. So many choices, and he’d taken none that they’d recommended. Adamant about finding his own way, he’d made the decision to accept this job almost on impulse. He wanted to be a success, though not so much financially. His father had made enough for the family to be set for ten generations to come. Nathan wanted to find a life and a career that was his and be good at it.
He couldn’t remember now why on earth this had been the path he’d decided to take.
When he wasn’t exercising, trying to keep his muscles from atrophying, he lay on an old mattress in the corner. He’d put it in the farthest corner from the reeking hole in the floor. But now, he heard one of them coming in. He stood on his feet. He always did. And it didn’t matter which one of them came in, they always told him ‘Sit!’ as soon as they saw him.
The door creaked opened. The same one who’d brought him a dish of food last time came in, carrying a lit floor lamp that was attached to an extension cord that ran out into the hall. Another of his guards stood outside, watching intently.
Nathan was surprised that the guard did not tell him to sit. He also carried no food. In his other hand, he held a digital camera.
“Wall,” the man told him, motioning to the wall. “There…stand.”
There were going to take his picture. Nathan actually felt a jolt of happiness at this little change in routine. Perhaps this meant that they were going to tell someone out there that they had him. He remembered the images of kidnapped westerners that showed up on Al Jezeera broadcasts. Many died at the hands of their captors, but many of them would live. He hoped to be one of the latter.
“Wall,” his captor repeated.
“Don’t you want to be in the picture with me?” he asked, feeling his spirit lift for the first time.
“Stand…wall,” he repeated.
The armed guard from the hall stepped into the room. He stared at Nathan menacingly, his finger on the trigger of the AK-47.